Tommy Grayson was 23, 6'2" tall, weighed 210, had dark blonde hair clipped close in a USMC style and he was undoubtedly the best quarterback the college had seen in 15 years. Everyone said he had it made in the shade with his full-ride scholarship and having rich parents didn't hurt either. Tommy was one of the few students that didn't need a part-time job b...
This is one of a few stories in BlackDarwin's journal and describes experiences with one of his closest friends and first lovers in High School. * * * * * I wasn't the kind of kid who beat off to Wonder Woman on the Superfriends. I appreciated the real-woman curves of ElektraWoman and Linda Carter. My first carnal stirrings were compliments of Yvonne Crai...
It was a nice weekend, but we were happy to get back to a regular, mundane routine of plain vanilla sex again for a few weeks. Tina called to tell me she bought a strap-on dildo and had used it a couple of times to peg Keith. He loved it. I knew he would, he was the type of man who needed a woman to take charge of him. I was glad I made her buy it. A break...
It was unusually warm for October. It was humid, and the rot of leaves hung heavy in the air. She was sweating more than she had in a long time as she ran on the wooded trails behind the University. Leaves were drifting down from the tops of tall trees, and deer watched from afar and then almost absently leapt into thicker concealment. She picked up her pa...
He had traveled this interstate highway more times than he cared to remember. The same old scenery, the same dreary truck stops, the same busy roadside rest stops slid by with monotonous regularity. As a state auditor of small correspondent banks, he traveled the east coast states for nearly nine months out of every year. The money was great but the bored...
It was just past 11:00 a.m. as I closed the motel room door and strode down the sidewalk toward the Galleria. It was only a few blocks ahead and I could see the Weston Hotel attached to it jutting up against the steamy skyline. The Weston's bar is where I was heading, figuring a drink or three would help kill the hour and a half wait until I was going to mee...
Theresa waited for the second soft rap on the door before cracking it open. The young man in the hallway could see only her blonde hair and tanned face. But that was enough to confirm what others had told him—Theresa was a beautiful woman. "Hello. I'm Mark. I'm...," he began to say. Theresa opened the door wider, but remained mostly hidden from view. "Come...
As Salam Alaikum, people. The name is Maimuna Ismail and I've got a wicked story to share with you folks today. I was born in the Puntland region of Somalia and moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, with my parents, Hodan and Ali Ismail, in the late 1980s. I grew up in the Capital, and consider myself as thoroughly a Canadian as anyone. Home is where the h...
The bar was dark. I sat on a sticky, sweat smelling stool, lifting and lowering my glass onto the bar, observing the different shapes the water stain it formed left on the counter. The woman serving me motioned with her rag; I left her space and she wiped the stain. She wasn't like the other girls; she actually worked with her hands, not her body. The other...
Marianna Vasquez-Anselmo looked at Peter Samson's sleeping form, and grinned. The tall, dark-skinned young man whom she affectionately referred to as her "Angelito Negro" or Black Angel, was asleep at last. Hard to believe that this loco American was the same guy she met eight months, when he barged into the Student Affairs Office at the Universidade Catolic...